


"The Davies!Verse Drabbles"

by helenkacan



Series: The Davies!Verse [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 10:05:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 5,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3806413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helenkacan/pseuds/helenkacan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a story ("A New Beginning") refused to end, I indulged in revealing snippets of Giles and Davies as they merge their personal and professional lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Artichokes

**Author's Note:**

> Thirty-one days in December, 2006 (and every year!). Twenty-six letters of the (English) alphabet. Combining the two, I decided to celebrate Giles and his new love Davies by writing a wee drabble or ficlet every single day. Generally much more playful than what came before in "A New Beginning".

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giles enjoys two of his favourite indulgences at the same time: Davies all tied up and a succulent food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains mild bondage.

The man was torturing him.

Tempting him.

Deliberately.

Davies groaned, seeing Rupert slide pale green leaves between his teeth, scraping the succulent flesh off, tongue darting out to catch a stray dribble of sauce.

//Bastard.//

Just because Davies didn't care for artichokes. Rupert still forced him to partake of the culinary experience.

On his back, spread-eagled and tied to the bed, sauceboat resting on his belly, leaves artfully draped over his cock.

But ... oh ... the reward was sublime. For, once finished, Rupert had bent and paid devoted homage with his mouth. Tasted, savoured his essence.

Better than any damn artichoke.


	2. So of the Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New love and old friends. Is Giles worrying needlessly about how the two will mix?

Rupert Giles was surprised.

Pleased ... but definitely surprised by Buffy's reaction or lack thereof.

Certainly she'd been charming and gracious when she'd met Davies and the Magpies for the first time.

But he'd still expected a little of that jealous attitude to creep in, making him feel guilty for wanting to have a personal, even sexual, life.

He wondered if it was because Davies was a man - and she didn't have to compete against any other woman. It had a certain logic.

She could still be the _one girl in all the world_.

He smiled, contentedly.

_His_ girl, always.


	3. There's Never A Banana Around When You Need It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C is for ... condom.

Rupert Giles giggled.

His lover glared. "This isn't funny, you know."

Giles looked at his cock, playing hard to get.

Davies was attempting to slide a condom onto Rupert for the first time. But it seemed as if Rupert's cock was too excited to remain still, twitching when Davies's fingers came close.

Finally, Davies gave up, offering Rupert the rolled up latex. "Here. You deal with it."

"Hmm. You could have practised on a banana."

"I tried, but the monkey was unwilling to let go."

Amidst gales of laughter, it was another 30 minutes before Davies got what he deserved.


	4. A New Day, A New Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How unexpected consequences of having the youngest Scoobie meet his lover fluster Giles.

Rupert Giles glared.

//Intolerable.//

They had ganged up against him, both of them.

He didn't know which hurt more, that Davies was ignoring him, or that Dawn preferred Davies to him.

But, then, what else could he have expected. Davies knew that Dawn was the key; yet, to him she was just an extraordinarily bright, beautiful girl who didn't exist only as a manufactured memory.

So, Giles sat across the room and fumed, waiting until "Checkmate" was achieved, Dawn went home to her sister and he declared war on his lover.

In bed.

He smiled.

He would take _no_ prisoners.


	5. Pretense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six years post Chosen, the ghost of Ethan Rayne pays Giles a visit. How will Giles handle telling Davies and how will Davies react to his otherworldly presence?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains benevolent voyeurism.

Rupert Giles cringed.

He didn't want to explain Ethan to Davies – but Ethan was dead.

How had he learned of Ethan's death?

Oh, Ethan's ghost had conveniently popped in for a visit that morning. Luckily, Davies had not stayed the night.

"Hallo, Ripper."

Giles had spun around while washing up his breakfast dishes, startled by the voice he had not heard for nearly 10 years. But what he'd seen was a shimmering apparition mimicking Ethan's slender form.

"Who ... what the hell are you?"

"Now, Ripper, is that any way to greet your old love?" The apparition floated over toward Giles who was now standing with his back plastered to the sink.

Giles's hands were scrabbling, trying to find the salt shaker. In a split moment of calm, he reminded himself to _always_ keep one at hand. Giles straightened up and looked into _that_ face full on. "You're delusional, Ethan. I never loved you."

The mocking voice was a slap in the face. "Ripper, Ripper, Ripper. You should know you can't keep secrets from the dead." Ethan waited for those words to sink in before continuing. "We _know_ things. What truth smells like."

Giles scoffed. "You expect me to believe that you can smell a lie?"

"It's true, cross my heart and ... oh, bugger, too late for that. Short answer, yes. Truth smells like peaches and strawberries. Well, it does to me. Quite pleasant. And lies smell like rotting garbage. The bigger the porky pie, the fouler the smell."

Ethan looked very pleased with himself, if not for anything more than pissing Ripper off. He twitched his insubstantial nose with an air of disgust at the imaginary odour. And made sure that Ripper noticed it. Ethan had missed all that. But the opportunity had been taken from him for too many years. So, he considered death ... the afterlife ... to have its rewards.

Giles couldn't help himself. He let out an emphatic, "Fuck."

Ethan's lips curled up. "Sorry, mate, can't oblige you there. Or ... at least I'm not sure I can. Haven't tested all of the accessories yet." Ethan cupped his ghostly form in approximately the correct area. Giles observed him close his eyes and moan.

Ethan's voice was bright. "Oh, that's a relief. I can still feel things."

Giles was preparing to deal with Ethan in the usual manner. "I'll let you feel the end of my fist if you don't get out."

Unfortunately, that was an empty threat and they both knew it.

"Sorry I can't oblige you there, old boy. You try to poke me and you'll end up splitting your knuckles on the furniture."

"Then you've come here just to taunt me, I suppose."

"Well, I'm pleased to see your ego seems to have survived the fall of Sunnydale. But, you know, Ripper dear, it's not always all about you."

Giles was nearly growling with frustration, unable to hit his preferred target. "Then what?"

Ethan's form seemed to hop up onto the counter, crossing one leg over the other in a languid movement (that did not escape Giles's attention) and swinging it lazily, while examining the nails of his right hand, buffing one that did not satisfy him with the middle finger of his left hand. He glanced at the nails again, and then sniffed, delicately.

"You've moved on. No, I don't object ... well, not really. But _they've_ decided you're not going to fuck this relationship up. Oh, yes, _they_ know all about it."

Giles waved a dismissive hand in the air. "Do I give a rat's ass as to what your Chaos gods know or want?"

Ethan's face looked at him solemnly. It was quite a shocking change. He replied gently, "They're not _my_ gods, Rupert, they're your all seeing and all knowing Powers."

Giles's blood ran cold. He'd never expected Ethan to pull off a stunt such as this. He answered in clipped tones, "If you're quite through, I'd appreciate it if you would just leave."

"Sorry. Can't. Besides they warned me what the consequences would be if I failed them. Being digested in the acid-filled stomach of a Krolik demon for a thousand years would be merciful in comparison. So, Ripper, I'm staying put. You'll get used to it."

Giles almost spat the word out. "Never." He then walked over and sank onto a chair, elbows on the table with his head in his hands. Wearily, he raised his head. "So, what does this have to do with my relationship with Davies?"

Ethan almost smirked. "Oh, nothing much. Just averting another apocalypse, the biggest one yet. It's all in one of their prophecies. Says the tall, dark-haired blue-eyed mate and the Watcher of the longest-lived Slayer will join forces." He sighed, dramatically, before continuing. "It's a pity it couldn't be me ... or any other lithe youth you've ogled in the past."

Giles snorted. "What's past is buried in the past, as you should be, Ethan. At least you're dead, so I can cross you off that list."

"I may have died, Ripper, but you won't be free of me until you grieve my passing."

The words hung in the air as Giles was too stunned to respond. Finally, he gathered the disgust that usually accompanied his suppressed memories of Ethan. "Now whose ego is asserting itself?"

Ethan's voice was earnest, another surprise. "No ego, old friend. Besides the Powers made it quite clear that if you do a cock-up when the apocalypse comes, and you and Davies aren't together to fight it, they'll still send me off to that grotesque end. Gives me quite an unpleasant quiver. So, you're going to tell Davies all about us ... well, you can omit a few more lurid details ... but he must know that I meant something to you. If you don't, I can just picture you, a bomb waiting to explode. You could moan my name in your sleep or, worse, be buried balls deep in him, calling out my name when you come because your brain's turned to mush. Don't deny it. I know that mouth ... alright, _knew_ that mouth. Intimately." Ethan paused to take an unneeded breath. Old habits died hard.

Giles's voice was even, though his emotions were in turmoil. "If I do everything you've told me they want, then you'll leave me alone?" He had to be hopeful.

"Now, Ripper, why would I want to do that? Someone's got to keep an eye out for you and they chose me. Or I let them choose me. You wouldn't want to know what some of the other assignments were. Quite, er ... disagreeable." Ethan pulled an ephemeral silk square from his equally ghostly breast pocket of his jacket and dabbed at the corner of his mouth. Even if he were a spirit, it never hurt to keep up appearances. Ethan hummed to himself. //Fastidious to the end.//

Giles grumbled. "Fine. So you're keeping an eye on me. But I want to make something crystal clear. You will stay out of my sight. I don't want Davies to see you either. I don't want to see you practising to be a Poltergeist in your spare time. Let's just call it silent surveillance. Or, as the children would have called it, a stakeout. You watch," he shuddered as he considered the apparent blasphemy of that word to describe his long-time foe, "You report to the Powers and you leave us the hell alone. Is that understood?"

The dark eyes twinkled back at him in a merriment that only Ethan could appreciate. "Say no more, Ripper. You won't know I'm about. But, I think one photograph of me on the sideboard would be appropriate. At least during the official mourning period."

Giles barely ground out, "Ethan ...," before the apparition faded out completely, and then heard the familiar words floating in the air, "Be seeing you."

* * * * *

Davies clutched at Giles's arms. "I love you, no matter what. Besides, Ethan is dead and buried."

Giles couldn't lie, so merely whispered, "Yes. Dead ... and gone. But you, dear one, are here and you're mine. Forever."

He gently wiped the tears from under Davies's eyes with a thumb. As his palm moved across his cheek, Davies kissed it, grateful for the love and reassurance and honesty Giles had shown. It wasn't a betrayal to admit that Giles had loved someone long ago before him. Although Davies was a little skeptical about his own role in whatever apocalypse awaited, he knew he'd be by Rupert's side. Forever.

Davies wriggled out from under the hand that now cupped his cheek. He stretched his arms out in a familiar pose. There was a wicked smile lighting up his face. "Show me. Convince me. You know how I like it."

* * * * *

Ethan made himself comfortable in the armchair at the other side of the bed, after adjusting his metaphorical erection. //Or was it allegorical?// He made note to ask, the next time someone _up there_ deigned to acknowledge him.

But it wasn't so bad, being a watcher of sorts. He'd always enjoyed watching others fuck. No, not a watcher. He wasn't conceited enough to call himself that. He was just a voyeur. If anybody would care to know.

His meandering thoughts were interrupted by a moan. //Oh, Rupert. How you've changed. You would have never permitted yourself to do something _that_ undignified when we were together.// He leaned in to get a closer look.

After all, Ethan had a job to do. It was his destiny.

A silent giggle escaped through his lips. Even he couldn't convince himself of such a lofty purpose.

He settled back, a pervert proudly performing his duty.

And wondered if allowing some of his ethereal essence to slip into either or both of these men _entirely accidentally_ would be noticed. He imagined fucking himself, as it were. And stored away that delightfully decadent thought for a metaphorical rainy day.

//Or was it allegorical.//


	6. Credo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do Giles and Davies handle differences in faith?

Rupert Giles felt exasperated.

He couldn't understand how an intelligent man – recently informed of the existence of monsters and hellish dimensions – could still digest the pap that was served up every Sunday at their local church.

Giles hadn't known that Davies held such quaint sentiments in his heart. But, shortly after their relationship had settled down – after the tumultuous first few months – Davies said he was going to resume attending each Sunday if possible, even if Rupert didn't accompany him.

Giles hated that he'd become so jaded, but knew that he had to remain faithful to one person only – himself.


	7. In Times of Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sad anniversary leads to visiting the grave.

Davies was too quiet.

Giles didn't understand why until the Magpies told him. It was the anniversary of Andrew's death.

Later that afternoon, he pushed Davies to ride with him on the bike. No driver, no witness.

As they approached the cemetery, Giles could feel Davies's body pressed against his back, trembling, overcome with grief.

Walking towards the grave, Davies looked at Giles and asked, "Why?"

"No one should be alone at a time like this. Besides, I think it's time you introduced me."

"I think he'd like that."

Cocooned by silence, they walked forward to receive Andrew's final blessing.


	8. Power Struggle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giles can't believe how helpless he feels, even if he's not the one tied up. So, who's in control now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains mild bondage.

Rupert Giles had never felt so helpless in his life.

Didn't understand how.

Thought he'd have been _immune_ by now.

Wasn't being tortured.

Wasn't grieving.

Didn't have to make any hard, necessary decisions.

Or sacrifice himself.

And, yet ....

When Davies was lying on the bed, trussed up, blindfolded, unable to wriggle even one toe, Davies – not he - was in charge, in control, full of power.

And Giles was the helpless one.

Because ... because Davies had said, "I love you."

Suddenly, every responsibility was stripped from Giles ... and he was free and safe within the comforting confines of that love.

//Finally.//


	9. Indelible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ink ... for new writing upon the slate of life.

Rupert Giles was fascinated by the rustling of the old-fashioned fine-nibbed pen – a graduation present from Davies's father.

Giles waited until Davies finished the mundane grocery list: a hen, carrots, potatoes, parsnips, cheese, fruit. //Dinner.//

Then held his breath as Davies approached the bed. Giles shivered from the scrape of the pen, the ink flowing onto his back.

Davies leaned over the body of his lover, his whisper both reassuring and inflaming. “My hand, my words indelible upon your flesh. I'll wash them off in a bit, but I'll retrace them with my lips, my tongue, every night.”


	10. Foregone Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a jasmine tea ceremony means more than just a hot drink.

Rupert Giles sat stone still, though he couldn't conceal the eagerness in his eyes, the insistent throb of his cock, the memory of the last time as fragrant as the jasmine blossoms releasing their subtle scent while the tea steeped.

The first time Davies had approached him, sinking down onto his knees, serving him not only the tea but also _serving him_ , Giles had been quivering, hesitatingly accepting the comfort, strength and passion evident in every caress.

He couldn't believe that this treasure of a man was his.

All it took was _that_ cup of tea.

"Close your eyes."

//Ah.//


	11. Sweeter Than Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having to wait for kissing is sometimes a cruel deprivation.

Rupert Giles was becoming impatient.

His lover wouldn't come to bed. //Right. "Just finishing up."// For Davies insisted the plans had to be couriered in the morning.

So, Giles lay in bed, alone, and practised his pout. At least it _was_ something to do with his lips. The lips that were surely being deprived of some mutual sensual meditation, not to mention beneficial production of the hormone oxytocin.

He dozed off amid visions of sugared treats and woke to the familiar touch of his lover's lips sucking on his own.

Kissing him back – the sweetest delicacy of all.

//Nolo contendere.//


	12. A Bountiful Pot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Lobster Bisque is more than just a special meal.

Rupert Giles's senses were heightened as he walked through the door, after a long day at Council HQ.

He followed his discriminating nose to the kitchen where he spotted the large yellow pot, its contents simmering gently. He inhaled deeply. //Lobster Bisque.// Also freshly baked bread.

But no Davies.

Only a card propped against a vase of daisies.

> _
> 
> Sorry, love, was called away. Emergency session, planning on Newcombe project. I'll try to be back before bed. In the meantime, enjoy. D
> 
> _

Soup. Flowers. Wine.

And a considerate but missing lover.

He settled down to wait.

Hungry ... for more than food.


	13. Ruffled Feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though the Magpies are dear friends, their husbands are an unknown entity. How will they react upon meeting Giles?

Rupert Giles dreaded waiting for the confrontation.

Perhaps not entirely a battleground encounter, but still one fraught with potential for disaster.

He was about to meet the Magpies' husbands for the first time.

It had become increasingly difficult for them to leave their husbands' sides - so he did the only thing he could: he invited all of them, not to London - as the security measures would have horrified the men - but to his place in Bath.

Although the women talked about their husbands, he had trouble envisioning them. Surely Jo, with her red hair and strong personality, was matched with a tall, strong, dark mate. And Mil, with her sandy hair - was her husband slight, perhaps with fine blond hair. As for El, with her warm honey hair and equally compassionate disposition, was her husband a large big-hearted man?

He was about to put faces to names, to see where these men fit in.

Jo's husband was not what he'd envisioned. Mark was on the short side, a bit stocky, and seemed very down to earth.

Mil, on the other hand, had the supremely confident tall dark haired Edward as her husband.

Only El's husband, James, seemed to fit his estimate. He was large, but not in a wobbly way. And he was nearly bald, though the lack of hair did not seem to make him look older.

Still, he was worried. Although the Magpies had demonstrated that they were eons removed from small-town conventional morality, he didn't know what to expect from their husbands. The men had already had limited contact with Davies, so it was up to Giles to get through this encounter on his own.

The women had gracefully slipped away, joining Davies in the kitchen, intending to stay out of the way.

Giles welcomed the men into the lounge and, after they'd sat down, offered them a drink. That was a good start, because the men were impressed by the variety he had on hand. Not the stockpile of a drunkard, merely the ability to offer the widest selection to one's guests.

Pouring and handing over the drinks occupied him for only a few short minutes. Still unsure as to how to start a conversation, Giles was saved by Edward. He had to keep reminding himself that he was Mil's husband. He would probably need to devise a mnemonic to remember. Edward was speaking, "... and I saw on the way up to the house that you have a barn. Are there horses?"

"Yes, I do keep a few mounts. If you ride, I'd welcome the company any time I'm here." Giles turned to the others. "All of you, if you'd care to join me."

Mark and James were quick to very politely decline. Neither of them was up to being on a horse ... _willingly_.

Mark did notice the chessboard on a corner table. "Do you play?"

Giles smiled wryly. "Not often enough. For some strange reason, Davies prefers to play against one of our friends, a young lady not yet twenty."

Mark laughed. "I'm sure I'd enjoy the challenge of playing against you."

"Good, then. Perhaps we could make this a regular match." Giles was close to breathing a sigh of relief. Two out of three. He looked at James with a hopeful though hesitant expression on his face.

"I don't suppose you paint."

"Unfortunately not. It seems that, if I wasn't studying, I wanted to do something that didn't require the use of my eyes - so being on a horse was the best way for me to relax properly. But what sorts of things do you paint?"

"Watercolours, mostly. Scenery. Not that there's much wilderness to be found in town."

"Then, James, please feel free to wander through my fields for inspiration. And take Davies with you. He seems to have lost that need to draw from nature. It's all projects, flats, offices. Would you believe he's even doing a modern church? Still, too much brick and mortar."

The man rubbed his chin thoughtfully before replying. "I believe I could get him back to the land." There was a brief pause as his face lit up with an impish expression. "With or without his permission."

The four men laughed hard at that and the ice seemed to have been broken without any lingering awkwardness. They sipped their drinks for a few more minutes until the Magpies returned, clucking at them. For Davies was serving dinner and they wouldn't want to be rude to let it get cold.

Giles allowed the women to sweep their husbands before him. It had gone well, //much better than I'd expected.// Even if the contact with the men was limited to outings with a specific social purpose, he felt he was on the threshold of expanding his circle of acquaintances. People who didn't know what he did ... and didn't need to know what he did.

But the opportunity was welcome and meant that he and Davies would not have to worry about how the men felt about having their wives fluttering about this unusual couple.

He felt proud of himself, for having overcome another hurdle in his own personal development. As a man. As a sexual being. And, always, as a friend to those amazing women, the Magpies. Because they really were _thieves_ \- but what they'd stolen was his heart.


	14. Wedding Cake, on the Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One may get married in the morning ... or the afternoon ... or whenever one chooses. Is that the next step? But must Niagara Falls be a part of the plan?

Rupert Giles was a traditionalist.

Davies nagged, "Can't we slip up to Canada - next time you visit Cleveland - and do it? Then, perhaps, Niagara Falls?"

The reply was brusque. "Because it's tacky and tawdry." //Wouldn't mean a thing back here.//

"I don't buy a word of it. I think you just want to have that elegant church ceremony. And wedding cake, on the side."

"I'm holding out for the day when we can get married here, in our own country."

"Does that mean the jacuzzi for two is out?"

The only reply Davies got was a pillow to the head.


	15. Good Guys Don't Always Finish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the best of intentions, sometimes an orgasm is just not in the cards.

Rupert Giles was drained, even haggard.

But he put a brave face on and didn't resist his lover's attempts to pleasure him. Even though his equipment was not up to performing.

"Sorry, love, but it _was_ an insane day. It's just not going to happen."

Davies looked downcast, but prepared to move away. "That's alright, we'll just get a good night's sleep."

A hand stopped him.

"No. Even if I can't, I want you to finish." Giles rolled onto his stomach and raised his ass in invitation.

//Sometimes it was better to give than to receive.//

He grinned. //Cheeky interpretation!//


	16. Like a Charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giles is not beyond using one of his most valuable weapons: his pout.

Rupert Giles grinned. He still had it. His pout.

He was snuggled up in Davies's bed – but there was no body beside him.

Poor Davies had lost the battle and had been forced to get out of bed to take out the trash.

They'd bickered back and forth until Davies had capitulated. Finally.

//Good thing, that. One more word of resistance and I would have let him off the hook.//

Not that _he_ would ever let his lover know that.

A pout was fine ammunition.

//Unless one counts sex.//

Also worked like a charm.

Davies didn't stand a chance.

//None.//


	17. Cherished

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Traditional, yes ... but never quaint.

Rupert Giles grasped his lover's arms.

Davies was having a nightmare. // _Another_ one.//

As the sleeping man's body finally became calm, Giles bent down to kiss his hair, softly. He murmured, "Shhh. I'm here, love. It's going to be alright."

Though no formal vows had been exchanged, they cherished one another. Obviously loved, honoured. Though they both declined to obey.

In the twenty-first century, _that_ was too quaint for them.

Giles knew he would do just about anything to keep his lover safe.

Even if it were only to gather his trembling body close to his heart.

Whispering soothing nothings.


	18. A New Broom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten months after their Valentine's Eve reconciliation, Davies finally receives an invitation where his presence will not be as risqué as it might have been years ago.

Rupert Giles held his lover in his arms.

In front of an audience.

Davies had received the _only_ invitation he cared about: to be on Rupert's arm at the traditional pre-Christmas Council dinner and dance.

With the old Council destroyed, many old-fashioned customs were discarded. No place cards, no separation of couples during dinner.

But the best part was to be able to dance with his lover. The two of them, elegant, tall, charming. And, if one were to kiss the other in a quiet corner, that was a sweet, enchanting moment.

Risqué to strangers, but not before their friends.


	19. In Corpore Sano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davies uses his wiles to convince Giles that there are benefits to leaving a sedentary lifestyle behind.

Rupert Giles swore as he struggled against his lover.

"Damn. When did you get so strong?"

Davies held him off with one hand and replied, idly, "When you weren't looking; attending Council business, I'd say."

"Fuck."

"I think not. Exercise first, fuck later." Davies slid out of Giles's grasp, sprinting to the end of the gym, and taunted him. "What did you say about a sound mind in a sound body?"

"Didn't think it'd be _this_ hard," he grumbled.

"Worth it if you're healthy."

"Nag."

"Brat."

"Love you."

"Good. Another hour, then!"

"Fine." //Just wait till we're in the showers.//


	20. Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When love is a testament to eternity.

Rupert Giles stared at the documents.

//Last Will and Testament.//

Both he and Davies had drawn up their papers independently; yet they had not left anything to the other. Giles had willed his estate and his investments to the coven in Devon; Davies had left his modest possessions to his university, the school for architecture, specifically.

Neither had wanted to consider a pre-deceased beneficiary.

They both knew that, should one die, the other would follow soon.

Both had had their fill of lamenting at the grave, being left alone.

They would never be parted from one another.

Together. Through eternity.


	21. Fists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giles never knows when he and Davies will have an ugly encounter. But he's prepared.

Rupert Giles hesitated as they neared the laneway.

He sensed danger.

His senses rarely proved him wrong.

He and Davies were surrounded by three thugs – who had something else on their minds besides pinching their wallets.

More precious.

_Fragile_.

The three circled them, with ugly, hateful words their mocking chorus.

But they'd underestimated their opponent.

Giles thrust Davies behind him against a wall. Unleashed, Ripper lashed out, fists swinging, taking the first thug unawares.

One down.

The other two were still cocky.

//Fools.//

In minutes, Davies and he were the only ones standing.

Eternal vigilance _was_ the price of freedom.


	22. Anatomy of Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's just something about velvet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains mild bondage.

Rupert Giles stilled his hand, poised over the cock thrusting up, craving his touch.

Davies - restrained - could barely move his hips. No relief. He knew _very_ well that Giles would wait until his hand was quivering before he stroked him. That touch was torture - a whispered caress of the velvety flesh. Designed to prolong arousal indefinitely.

//Bastard.//

Giles could do this for hours.

Had.

And whispered, "I love pleasuring you ... but denying you is also quite _satisfying_."

Then, he'd grasp the proud cock waving in front of him and bring him off suddenly.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Later, he'd do it all over again.


	23. Conundrum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giles hopes that Davies will find common ground with his friends from the past. But, then, there's Willow.

Rupert Giles left the conundrum that was Willow to Davies, believing it was up to Willow to find common ground with Davies.

They found it in the kitchen. Unfamiliar territory to Willow. But Davies, oddly enough, knew more about traditional Jewish food than Willow ever learned from her parents, the Rosenbergs so concerned with being expansive and secular, they'd never imparted an appreciation of the unique elements of their faith to Willow.

The first time Willow made latkes, the kitchen was a disaster. But the moment the crisp potato touched her tongue, triumphant.

Dinner for her friends Friday night, thanksgiving.


	24. Practical Assurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's behind Xander's behaviour around Giles and Davies? Will Giles do something rash to propel Xander to introspection and revelation?

Rupert Giles was at his wits' end. After the Valentine's Eve Party when Davies had been introduced, Xander found reason and opportunity to invite himself to stay overnight, the evidence a tightly rolled-up sleeping bag in the lounge.

Davies was preparing dinner.

Xander's incoherent babbling grated. "How did you, um, know ... um ...."

So, Giles grasped Xander's face between slightly shaky hands and kissed him.

End of babble.

At first Xander resisted, but then his entire frame relaxed and he leaned into the kiss, hoping to deepen it, at which point Giles released him.

Xander blinked, swaying, but thankfully not babbling.

"Did you enjoy that?"

No reply except for a slow nod.

"Good. Let's call it practical assurance that you _do_ find men appealing ... as well as women. Am I right?"

Another less hesitant nod.

"I'm expecting Davies to serve dinner at any moment, so why don't you go wash up?"

Xander beat a hasty retreat from the man who'd just taught him a crucial lesson.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"High time."

Giles was jolted out of his thoughts. "You're not upset?"

"Why? For teaching the boy a lesson?"

"Thank you for understanding."

Davies simply smiled. "Come to bed, love."

In his lover's arms. //Bliss.//


	25. A Very Special Occasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yule meets the ghost of Christmases past. Some traditions should evolve.

Rupert Giles wondered about his sanity.

Why had he agreed to Xander's outlandish suggestion?

But it had seemed so _reasonable_.

Though the new Council had kept its traditional Christmas gathering, there were more Slayers, and a few Watchers, who were not Christian and some who professed no faith at all.

Xander's suggestion, a unique Yule celebration, open to all. Casual dress, takeaway, games in a garishly decorated Council gymnasium.

Which was why Giles was bent over double laughing.

Because the donkey's tail was firmly affixed to a picture of him. Switched at the last moment by an imp named Davies.


	26. A Clash of Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whatever could go wrong with two jammed zippers?

Rupert Giles was swearing.

//Bloody Hell.//

Their guests were about to arrive but Davies and he had gotten their zips stuck ... together. Wicked teeth a breath away from equipment they'd _rather_ keep functioning.

So innocuous. Leaning in for one last kiss before their guests arrived.

The ping of the lift signaled impending doom.

"Xander, would you give us a hand? And keep the girls away."

Xander's eye widened in shock. "Um, so thinking you don't need another hand ... down there."

Giles growled, "Just find a pencil!"

Within seconds, they were the perfect hosts.

Xander couldn't stop blushing ... storing another fantasy.


End file.
